Past Gives Souvenirs. Poem by Majid Zubedi

O! My Papa! I miss you very much;
I feel lonely and crave for your touch.
You used to enter the house and call me;
I used to run to you and around your knee.
You took me and kissed on my cheeks;
Then on your forehead I put my lips.
Alas! some more time I should play with you;
It's that wish which never became true.
All the time was changed for an innocent child;
I've calculated every bit how much he cried.
Now its only a way to be near you;
I'ld think about souvenirs just I remember few.